


WWHPD?

by BymagaJones



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 03:11:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BymagaJones/pseuds/BymagaJones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt meets Hannah Puckerman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When Kurt Met Hannah

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Notes: This story takes place loosely in the summer after season 1.
> 
> I wrote this a long time ago for the Puckurt Big Bang, but family issues derailed my posting it in time.
> 
> I'm categorizing this story as M/M, but there isn't anything graphic. It's more shades of preslash than even actual preslash itself. I listed it as teen and up because of the language.
> 
> I'll be posting a chapter a day.
> 
> Disclaimer: If I owned, “Glee”, the show would have turned into a spinoff featuring Kurt and Rachel in NYC. So, obviously, I have no say in what’s going on there.

Chapter 1: When Kurt Met Hannah

Kurt was used to being jacked up in school, thrown in dumpsters, slammed against lockers, called names, shoved into toilets, slushied at all times of day. But that was school.  
  
Outside of school, he got the looks. But after all the physical stuff during the weekdays, strange looks - and maybe a passive aggressive snarky comment muttered under the breath - weren’t anything that even remotely concerned him. Summer and the weekends, however, were his own, and he used them to recharge, to regain footing in his life.  
  
But here he was, at the mall, waiting for Mercedes and Quinn, sipping on a water - with a straw, after all, he is civilized - when he was grabbed under both elbows and “escorted” into the no man’s land that held the bathrooms. Shoved into the wall separating the men’s from the women’s lavatories, he was turned to face two of the jocks from school wearing similar unpleasant expressions.  
  
“We’re going to do this here? Really? Did you not get your fill this past year?” He wasn’t really all that afraid. The place was too public for them to do too much to him, there weren’t any lockers to shove him into, and he wasn’t about to let them give him a swirly in a public bathroom.  
  
“Why are you here?”  
  
“It’s a public area,” Kurt said slowly, as if they were stupid, because, well, they did just prove that there were such things at stupid questions. “I can be here if I want.”  
  
One of the jocks, the one with the hirsute arms, reached out and grabbed hold of the front of Kurt’s shirt. “Not when we’re here.”  
  
“You’re wrinkling my shirt!” Kurt muttered angrily, grabbing the guy’s hairy arm, eww by the way, and digging his newly manicured nails into the skin.  
  
The guy immediately let go.  
  
“Look, you torture me at school, okay. I get it. But this, out here? It’s real life. It’s where I can take one look at a cop and get you run in for harassment or thrown into jail for perpetuating a hate crime. With one call, I can get the ACLU in here, and in minutes they will have every loud liberal in this country ready to throw you on a bonfire and spit on your ashes.  
  
“So I’d suggest you turn around and drag your knuckles to wherever you came from before I unleash the wrath of a thousand Jesus-sandled, dreadlocked, tie-dyed hippies on your ass!”  
  
The two guys looked at each other, then at Kurt, before turning to leave.  
A little impressed with himself and thankful that they would have the rest of the summer to forget about this, Kurt sighed when he saw the damage they’d done to the McQueen Harness shirt he’d just gotten in the mail the day before. The color was a little… dark for his tastes, but he thought it suited him. A navy blue slim fit with a harness shoulder strap on his right shoulder, it came complete with metal buckle that made him feel all kinds of macho. Perhaps that was why he’d felt like hitting those thugs with his own can of verbal whip-ass.  
  
“Mister, were they being mean to you?”  
  
Kurt had been so involved with patting himself on the back that he hadn’t noticed a little girl standing in front of him.  
  
Dressed in jeans, a faded t-shirt, and a baseball cap, she looked up at him with a serious expression.  
  
Not having been exposed to many kids, Kurt wasn’t sure how to explain to someone so tiny about what she’d seen. Knowing his luck, her mother would take one look at them talking and scream that he’d somehow infected her daughter with gay cooties. Although, he thought as he eyed her outfit again, she did seem a little butch. But maybe all little girls went through a tomboy phase. What did he know?  
  
Deciding to be as vague as possible, he said, “They don’t like that I’m different.”  
  
It was her turn to eyeball him, and he had to stop his mouth from twitching. She was kind of cute, with those big, serious brown eyes. “You dress funny, but you don’t look different.” Her eyes somehow managed to grow a little larger as she asked, “Are you an alien?”  
  
“No,” Kurt said after a beat, wondering if she were somehow related to Brittany. But then again, maybe all little girls were also a little dumb, and Brittany just had never grown out of it. “I’m different on the inside.”  
  
The girl tilted her head and bit on her lip.  
  
Wondering why he was still talking to her, Kurt waited to see what she was going to say next. “How do they know if it’s on the inside?”  
  
“I don’t do the same things they do or like the same things they like, and it makes them mad.”  
  
“I like baseball and football, but Chelsea and Brianna think it’s stupid.”  
  
“It sounds like Chelsea and Brianna are the stupid ones,” Kurt told her, hating the two girls on principle alone.  
  
The little girl sucked in a breath. “You aren’t supposed to say ‘stupid’. It’s a bad word.”  
  
Kurt gave an involuntary chuckle. “But you just said it twice!”  
  
Without moving her head, the girl’s eyes darted to either side before returning her attention to Kurt. “I won’t tell on you if you won’t tell on me.”  
  
“Agreed,” Kurt said, smiling down at her. She was adorable but not in that my-favorite-color-is-pink-and-I-want-to-be-a-fairy-princess-when-I-grow-up sort of way that always made him nauseous when he watched the commercials on the cartoon channels. He liked that she said what she thought and considered what he told her before she spoke back to him.  
  
How sad was it that this was probably the most honest conversation he’d had since he’d come out to his dad? It was definitely more enjoyable than any conversation he could remember in the past few months.  
  
He really needed to get out more.  
  
“Can you change who you are on the inside?” She asked.  
  
“Why would I want to do that? I like who I am.” Most of the time, Kurt thought to himself. “Do you like who you are?”  
  
The little girl nodded.  
  
“Then don’t try to change who you are to make other people happy. You deserve to be happy too.”  
  
The little girl stepped closer, and Kurt had to force himself not to take an automatic step back. If he hadn’t cowered to the neanderthal brothers, he certainly wasn’t going to be scared of a little girl. She reached out and took his hand. “I’ll be your friend.”  
  
Unfair.  
  
He squeezed her hand and had to clear his throat. How did this sweet little girl manage to make him so emotional by such a simple gesture?  
  
“Hummel? What the hell are you doing with my little sister? I swear to G-”  
  
As soon at he heard Puck’s voice, Kurt jerked his hand away from the little girl and started backing up until he hit the wall. His eyes went from the little girl to Puck and back again, and that’s when he saw it. The emotional eyes, the long lashes. Shit. This was Puck’s sister? Shit.  
  
“I didn’t do anything to her,” Kurt said, cutting Puck off mid-threat. “She came up to me.” With that, Kurt did the smart but cowardly thing and fairly ran into the men’s room and bolted himself into the one stall.  
  
It had been a long time since he’d forayed into one of the public restrooms at the mall, and one of the reasons why came back to him in a wave of man-stench so strong it threatened to overpower him. _Please don’t let me pass out onto these urine-laden tiles, _he whispered to himself, hand gently pressed against his mouth.  
  
++++++++++ ++++++++++ +++++++++++  
  
Puck’s mom called just as Hannah had finished in the bathroom, and he’d taken her hand and absently walked them toward the arcade as he’d talked to her. “No, mom, we’re good. We’re just hanging at the mall, waiting for Finn and Matt to show up.” His mom had reminded him to keep an eye on Hannah, like he didn’t watch her every weekend she had to work, and she worked pretty much every damn weekend. Fortunately, Hannah was awesome, Puck thought as he looked down beside him and realized that Hannah wasn’t there. Crap!  
  
“Crap! Mom, I’ll talk to you later, bye.” He hung up and looked around frantically, knowing from experience how quickly she could disappear in a crowd.  
  
Immediately, he went into what he called think-like-Hannah mode. If he were Hannah, where would he have gone? He looked around himself and saw the balloons. Heading over there, he learned from the vendor that he’d just missed her. Looking around again, he saw something else that he knew would catch her eye, and he slowly traced her path until he found her by the bathrooms, where they’d started before his mom had called. And Hummel was talking to her and holding her hand. What the hell?  
  
After he’d sent the kid scurrying into the bathroom, he knelt beside his sister. “What’s the rule when we’re in a crowd?”  
  
“Don’t go off by myself,” she said, eyes downcast.  
  
“So what happened?”  
  
“I saw the balloons, and then I saw…” she proceeded to walk him through all of the steps he’d taken to find her until she’d gotten to forgetting her penny on the sink in the ladies room.  
  
“And that’s when I saw the big men being mean to my friend,” she said. “ One of them crunched up his shirt and made him really mad.”  
  
Puck couldn’t help but smile at the thought of someone messing with Hummel’s clothes. “I’m sure it did.”  
  
“I asked him why they were mean to him,” she said.  
  
Puck closed his eyes for a second, worried, but then he asked, “What did he say?”  
  
“He said it’s because they don’t like that he’s different, kind of like Chelesa and Brianna don’t like that I’m different.”  
  
Puck knew all about Chelsea and Brianna, how mean they were to Hannah just because she was a bit of a tomboy. Summer school was cheaper than summer camp, so Hannah found herself having to deal with those two year-round. He wished he could go in there and scare the living shit out of them, but he knew firsthand that it would only make things worse for Hannah. So for right now, he just did his best to keep tabs on those… well, they were too young for that kind of talk. Speaking of which…  
  
“And then he said a bad word, well, he said it after I said it, but then I had to say it again to tell him that we weren’t supposed to say it, but I said I wouldn’t tell on him if he wouldn’t tell on me, so pretend I didn’t say anything, okay?”  
  
Long used to following her trains of thought, Puck nodded. “Just don’t say it again, okay?”  
  
She nodded, smiling at him. Then she looked toward the men’s room. “My friend’s been in there a long time.”  
  
“I’m sure he’s busy. I bet Finn and Matt are already at the arcade, wondering where we are. We’d better go.” He stood and held out his hand.  
  
Hannah bit her lip and looked back at the men’s bathroom. “Let’s wait for my friend. Can he come play with us too?”  
  
“I don’t think he’d want to play with us,” Puck said, imagining the curl of distaste on Kurt’s lips if he had to touch anything in that arcade.  
  
Hannah’s lips began to firm, and Puck swore under his breath. She was starting to get that mule headed look she’d gotten from their mom. “Why don’t you like him?”  
  
Once again, Puck stooped to look his sister in the eye. “We just don’t run in the same circles.” She continued to look at him, and he tried again. “Not everyone can be friends. Kurt and I have nothing in common.”  
  
“You know his name? He’s Kurt?” She smiled dreamily at him.  
  
Puck knew that look, the glazed eyes, the soft smile… oh, hell no! No way was his sister going to crush on the gay dude. Next thing he knew, she’d be like Aretha, dateless and hanging out with the only person getting less action than she did.  
  
“Let’s go,” Puck said, taking Hannah’s hand and practically pulling her behind him. “You don’t want to worry Finn, do you?”  
  
“No,” she said, taking one last, sad look at the bathroom door before following her older brother.  
  
++++++++++ ++++++++++ +++++++++++  
  
Kurt waited as long as he could without throwing up before cautiously stepping out of the cesspool of filth. Taking a large, relieved breath of air, he grabbed his phone to text Mercedes, who should’ve been there by now. Maybe she was looking for him.  
  
Evidently, the men’s room was located so deep inside the building that it didn’t get reception, because Kurt’s phone began to vibrate like crazy as he walked back into the shopping area.  
  
The first text was Mercedes, telling him that she was just picking up Quinn and would be there soon. The second had her pulled over by a cop for texting him the first time while driving and bitching about how she’d been at a stop light at the time. The third text was her waiting on Quinn, the fourth told him that she’d gotten a call from her mom that family had unexpectedly arrived from out of town, and she was dropping Quinn back at home and couldn’t make it to the mall after all.  
  
“Damnit,” Kurt muttered. He’d just wasted a good hour of his weekend at an inferior mall being hassled by some thugs - on a weekend! - and almost getting a beat down by Puck for talking to his little sister.  
  
Although the conversation with the girl was pretty nice, well worth all the rest of it, he supposed.  
  
So he found himself standing there, in the middle of the mall, trying to decide how to spend the rest of his day.  
  
“Kurt!” He heard his name and turned toward the arcade, where he saw Puck’s sister jumping and waving at him with an I’m-so-happy-to-see-you-again smile that he wasn’t sure he’d ever gotten from anyone. Ever. Giving her a small smile in return, he unwrapped one of the arms he had subconsciously wrapped around himself and waved at her with a fluttering of his fingers before turning away. Having Puck dangle him over the railing would just be the capper to his day.  
  
Maybe he could go to the shop and help his dad. He’d already finished all of his summer reading - how depressing that closing that final book had been the highlight of his Friday evening? - so he was completely free for the rest of the summer.  
  
Before he’d taken a dozen steps, his legs were enclosed by small arms squeezing him tightly. Looking down, he couldn’t help but smile softly at the face pressed against his hip, grinning happily up at him.  
  
“Where you goin’?”  
  
“I’m going to go help my dad,” he said. “He’s a mechanic.”  
  
The girl frowned for a moment, her forehead crinkling.  
  
“He fixes cars and trucks,” he explained.  
  
“Can you come play with us?”  
  
“That’s sweet, really, but -”  
  
“Just for a little while?”  
  
Kurt tried to slowly slide farther away from the arcade, not an easy feat since the little girl had yet to let go. “I’m sure your brother -”  
  
“He said you don’t have stuff in common, but if you played games with him, then you would, right? Then you could be friends!” Her triumphant smile dimmed as she got another thought. “We don’t have stuff in common, so we can’t be friends?”  
  
Kurt wasn’t quite following her, but he figured that maybe he could just answer her question. “We both have people who don’t like us for being who we are, and we both like ourselves, right?”  
  
The smile reappeared. “That’s right. You’re so smart!” She pressed her cheek against his thigh again and gave him a huge smile, one that made him a little uncomfortable, actually.  
  
“Hannah! Do you want me to tie you to me with a rope?”  
  
So, her name was Hannah, Kurt mused as the girl managed to flip her head so the opposite cheek was pressed against Kurt’s thigh and she could see Puck descending upon them from behind.  
  
“I had to get Kurt,” she explained. “He was gonna leave.”  
  
Hobbling around to face Puck, Kurt explained defensively, “I didn’t ask her to come over here or anything.” He saw Finn and Matt walking up and barely contained a sigh. Great. An audience.  
  
“I wanted him to come over and play with us. That way, he could have something in common with you, and you could be friends!”  
  
“They already have something in common. They’re both in glee, and Kurt’s on the football team,” Finn explained, confused.  
  
Once again, Hannah looked up at Kurt. “You play football?”  
  
“I’m a kicker,” Kurt explained. “I don’t tackle or anything.”  
  
“But you can get tackled,” she said.  
  
Trying not to shudder at the thought, Kurt said the first thing that popped into his head. “Finn protects me, so that won’t happen.”  
  
That earned Finn a big smile from the little girl, and just like Kurt, Finn couldn’t help but smile back. What was is about her that made it impossible to not respond? Kurt wondered if all little girls were like this or if this were some super power that Hannah Puckerman singly possessed.  
  
Now, of course, Puck wasn’t too thrilled, but Kurt was becoming a little annoyed at him. It wasn’t like he was some pedophile or child kidnapper or anything. He didn’t keep coming up to her or hugging her around the knees, and frankly, he was a pretty good friend, if he said so himself. He was loyal and supportive and tried his best to make sure that his friends didn’t walk around looking like they’d gone blind and pulled just anything out of the closet. Hannah could do worse, thank you very much.  
  
“And you sing?”  
  
“Yes I do.”  
  
“Then you and Puck can become friends!” She jumped up and down, nearly unbalancing Kurt. “Let’s go play!”  
  
“Kurt doesn’t play those games,” Puck said.  
  
“Actually,” Kurt said, annoyed, “I do play. Very well.” He knew he could’ve used that as an excuse to get out of spending time with them, but suddenly the thought of helping out Puck didn’t appeal to Kurt in the least. He held out his hand to Hannah. “Let’s go and kick their butts.”  
  
Hannah giggled and took Kurt’s hand, and they led the little group to the arcade.  
  
++++++++++ ++++++++++ +++++++++++  
  
Puck was pissed. And confused. He’d seen that disgusted look the kid had sent him and didn’t understand it. They didn’t like each other, so why the hell would Hummel want to spend time with them? Puck glared at Finn, who had been no help at all by the way, and realized that maybe Kurt wanted to hang out with Finn. Until recently, it’d been obvious to everyone but Finn that Kurt was crushing badly; it was pretty pathetic to watch, really. Finn was the most hetero guy in the school, Puck excluded of course.  
  
What confused Puck even more was that Hummel had chosen Finn of all people. Sure, Puck supposed his best friend was good looking enough, in a homegrown sort of way, but he wasn’t very coordinated and lumbered around like a tree on the brink of toppling over. He had so much trouble getting the choreography that it always took him some additional time, sometimes with Puck, sometimes with Rachel or the others in order to get it.  
  
Puck, on the other hand, was a true stud. His body was definitely more awesome, his smile more lethal, his body more graceful. He was walking sex. When presented with the two of them, how could Hummel prefer Finn’s oblivious lumberjack to Puck’s panther-like sexuality? Maybe that was it, Puck thought as he watched Kurt get on his knees with only one concerned glance toward the floor so he could play a game with Hannah. Maybe he was too hot for someone so obviously virginal. It would be like touching a skateboard for the first time and expecting to take on Tony Hawke.  
  
And what was that shit about Finn protecting Hummel out on the field? Finn was a fucking quarterback; he held the ball for Hummel and then stood out of the way. Sure, Puck wasn’t on the defensive line either, but he would do a better job of protecting Hummel out on the field than Finn.  
  
He’d been thinking so hard that he didn’t realize Finn had been nudging him. “What?” He snapped, his eyes still on Hummel and his sister.  
  
“Kurt’s a good guy,” Finn said quietly. “He’s not going to be mean to her or anything. Even when I said what I said to him -” Finn stopped for a moment. “He never said anything mean back. He just took all of my anger and, like, absorbed it.”  
  
That didn’t surprise Puck, now that he thought about it. Finn had come over to Puck’s house after Hummel’s dad had thrown him out and told Puck the whole story. It wasn’t like Finn to be so angry, but Puck had seen it building for a little while. While he’d figured Finn’s explosion was definitely going to happen at some point, it sucked that it happened the way it did. Even now, weeks after the incident, Finn still felt so badly about how he’d reacted, about the words he’d said. Puck had noticed a certain, reticence - and yes, fuck you very much, he knew what that word meant - on Kurt’s side to spending much time around Finn, but he’d stopped looking at Finn as if the quarterback were going to suddenly blindside him and knock him down.  
  
No, that was Puck’s job.  
  
Only even Puck had stopped doing that lately. Hummel was still Hummel, but while he wasn’t one of them exactly, he wasn’t not one of them either. He played football even though Puck didn’t really think of him as a true teammate. And they were in glee together, but Puck didn’t really think of them as friends either. Torturing Hummel had just stopped being fun anymore now that he knew more about the kid. Familiarity was a bitch. And the anger he’d felt when he’d seen Karofsky and Azimio threatening Hummel and Finn during that whole Gaga thing had surprised him.  
  
He watched Hummel, his slight shoulder rotating as he prepared to face off against Hannah in Skee-ball. He stood up on his knees for a better angle, his tight jeans showing off his ass quite nicely. Wait. What? Puck blinked and stepped back, thrown by his thoughts. Where the fuck had that come from?  
  
“I beat him, Noah!” Hannah jumped up and down as Kurt slowly rose to his feet. “Your turn, Finn!”  
  
Kurt moved out of the way, putting him a little closer to Puck as Finn tried to fold his body comfortably onto the floor.  
  
“You don’t have to let her win,” Puck said, determined to stay focused on Hannah and Finn.  
  
“I didn’t. The kid’s good.”  
  
Puck could tell that Hummel was also focused on the game unfolding in front of them. Matt had disappeared somewhere within the large arcade, but Puck knew he’d show up again for his turn to play with Hannah. The three of them had started this a couple of months ago, and now almost every weekend they’d come here and play games for a few hours. They had a routine down now, where each one of them took turns playing with Hannah while the others played some of the older games.  
  
Finally, Puck looked over and saw Hummel eying Alien 3: The Gun nearby. It was one of his personal favorites, and even if she could reach the gun, Hannah wasn’t going to be playing a shooting game while he was around. He tilted his head toward it and asked, “you play?”  
  
Hummel shrugged, but Puck could tell he was trying not to smile.  
  
“Let’s go.” He dug into his pocket for some tokens.  
  
“My treat,” Hummel said, pulling out some sort of little purse from a tiny pocket in his tight jeans and unzipping it.  
  
Puck didn’t have much time to wonder when Hummel had gotten the tokens before he had to focus everything he had on the game. Hummel didn’t just play; he became the game. He lined up with the machine gun, and they seemed to become one; he didn’t even blink at the recoil. Finally, Puck jerked his hands from his own gun, astounded that he’d been creamed by Hummel of all people.  
  
“Yes!” Hummel sighed happily, pushing away from the gun and accidentally running into Matt behind him.  
  
Puck looked around, for the first time realizing that they’d attracted a crowd.  
  
“That was pretty awesome, Kurt,” Matt said, clapping Kurt on the back.  
  
“Thanks,” Hummel said happily as he flexed his fingers. “It’s been a little while, but I guess it’s like riding a bike.”  
  
“Kurt beat you, Noah,” Hannah said, her eyes huge.  
  
“He sure did,” Puck said, palming her head and giving it a gentle shake. He didn’t mention that it was kind of hot, seeing Hummel thrive in an arena that didn’t involve shades of pink and moisturizer.  
  
Hannah rolled her eyes at him and fixed her hat. “That means you owe him lunch.”  
  
Puck gently pulled her away from the game so two other people could play. “I don’t owe him lunch.”  
  
“Every time you play Finn or Matt and you beat them, you tell them that they owe you lunch.”  
  
Hummel spoke into the awkward pause. “I’ve already eaten, but thank you anyway, Hannah.”  
  
Puck glared at Hummel, showing the kid that he’d noticed the emphasis placed on his sister’s name.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Hummel bent down to Hannah and gave her a hug. “Thank you for the game, but I really have to go help my dad.” He looked her in the eyes and said softly, “It was a pleasure to meet you, _ Hannah Puckerman._”  
  
Hannah gave him a huge smile and another hug before he left with a nod in Puck and Finn’s direction.


	2. ...And Effect

[Chapter 1: When Kurt Met Hannah](http://bymagajones.livejournal.com/15283.html)

Chapter 2: ...And Effect

Kurt spent the rest of the day helping his dad, blaring music from “Rent” to keep from thinking too hard about his time at the mall.  It wasn’t really working though.  It turned out, he could multitask like a pro, working on the car while simultaneously singing and thinking about little Hannah Puckerman and how she seemed to make all of them behave better than they normally did.

The music grew quieter, and he felt his dad step behind him, watching him work in silence for a few seconds. “Everything okay, son?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Kurt said.

“What about everything else?  You seemed a little quiet today after the mall.  You have a good time with Mercedes and Quinn?”

“They couldn’t make it,” Kurt admitted.  Then he turned toward his dad.  “Can I ask you something?”

He almost smiled as he saw his dad brace himself.

“When I was little, did you find yourself acting differently… better when I was around?”  Burt’s confused expression made Kurt elaborate.  “I met this little girl at the mall today, and it turns out she’s the little sister of this guy at school.  We’re not even close to being friends, but because of her, we were actually, like, polite.  It was weird.”

“Once, when you were about eight, we found a twenty dollar bill on the ground.  It was around Christmastime, and it had almost been trampled into the snow.  If I’d been alone, I would’ve just pocketed it without a thought.  But you were there, and I wanted to teach you responsibility and honesty, so we went back in and took it to the customer service desk.  They couldn’t take it, since there was no way to track the owner, so instead, I let you give it to the Salvation Army Santa outside.”

“So you think we behave better around children so they’ll see how people should act in an ideal world,” Kurt mused.

“I sure hope we do, because one thing I learned from you is that kids copy what they see and hear, not what they’re told.”  With that, Burt clapped a hand on Kurt’s shoulder and walked away.  “That’s your last car for the day.  Finish up, and we’ll go home.”

“Okay,” Kurt agreed absently, thinking about what his dad had said.  He supposed it reflected well on Puck that he was trying to act better than he ever bothered doing in school.  Blinking to clear his thoughts, Kurt returned to the car, reminding himself that he’d probably never see that side of Puck again, and really, it was for the best.

++++++++++       ++++++++++      +++++++++++

“…and then he beat Noah!”

Puck rolled his eyes, stuffing more meatloaf in his mouth as Hannah continued to brag about Hummel.  It seemed like all she’d been able to talk about since Hummel left the mall was how awesome he was. Really?  What about Finn and Matt?  Hell, what about Puck, the one who took her to the damn mall in the first place?

“He even said it was nice to meet me!”

“Noah,” his mom asked when Hannah stopped to take a breath, “is this Kurt a friend of yours?”

“They have lots in common,” Hannah said.  “They both play football -”

“ - He’s a placekicker,” Puck interrupted.

“And they’re both in that singing club.”

“Glee, Hannah, it’s called glee club,” Puck muttered.

“And they both like video games and me!”  Hannah grinned at Puck, who, damnit, couldn’t help but smile back.  It felt a little painful, though.

“Can you go get a spatula so I can serve the pie?”  Their mom asked Hannah, who obediently skipped into the kitchen.

“So, who’s this Kurt boy?” Puck’s mom always asked Hannah to fetch things when she had questions for Puck alone.

Shrugging, he said, “He’s just this guy from school.”

“But you’re not friends,” she said, giving Puck that all-knowing mom’s eye.

Not about to confess to anything he’d done in the past, Puck shrugged.  “We don’t really have that much in common.”

“So he doesn’t play football?”

“He’s more interested in making sure that his hair doesn’t get messed up when he’s wearing the helmet than pretty much anything else.”

“He’s in your glee club, though?”

“He can sing so high that he’d break glass,” Puck muttered.

Puck was spared a further interrogation by Hannah’s return with the spatula.  

“Thanks, Boobalah.  For that, you get the first piece.”

“Can Kurt come over tomorrow?”  Hannah asked.

What was it with the women in his house being so fixated on Hummel?  

“I’m sure he’s busy.”  Both women looked at him with their _seriously, that’s all you got?_ expressions, and he sighed.  

“Fine.  I’ll call him after dinner.”

During dessert, Puck bought out all his good stuff, trying to distract them from the whole Hummel thing long enough for it to be too late to call.   He figured that if he kept them occupied until he could escape into his room, he’d be good until Sunday.  Then, he could leave a little early and go play basketball with Finn or something, maybe Halo with Artie even.  Anything to get out of the house before the women could descend upon him again.

All of his efforts didn’t matter, though, because Finn called on the house phone - how did he even have that number? - and Hannah, who was still enjoying the job, ran to answer it.  “Hello, Finn!  How are you this evening?”

Puck grinned at his mom, who shook her head wryly at him.  He and Hannah had practiced telephone etiquette pretty much half of a Saturday, and she had it down.  Puck didn’t remember telling her she couldn’t use contractions - yes, he knew what they were called; somehow that little bit of information had wormed its way into his mind despite all of his efforts to block out all of that kind of worthless shit.

“We have just finished dinner, so you are calling at a perfect time.  Would you like to speak to Noah?”  She meandered back to the table as she chatted with Finn and held out the phone to Puck before jamming it back to her ear.  “Finn?  Do you have Kurt’s telephone number?  We would like to invite him to come over and play tomorrow.”  She listened for an extraordinary amount of time, smile on her face, and Puck started to get worried.  “Hello, Kurt?  This is Hannah Puckerman.  We met today at the mall?”  Her smile widened.  “I would like to invite you to come over tomorrow to play.”  Her smile dimmed a bit, and Puck felt his fork dig into his palm and forced himself to relax his grip.  “Are you busy all day?”  Her smile disappeared.  “I understand.  Yes, maybe another time.”

Puck couldn’t take it anymore.  “Here.”  He took the phone from Hannah.  “Hummel, what’s the problem?  You can’t tell me that your social calendar is so full that you can’t come over and play with my sister for a few hours.  It’s not like you have a date or go to church or anything.”

There was a pause, then Kurt said, “Hello, Puck.  I’m fine, thank you.”  That was Hummel, pure snark.  “You could learn a lot about phone etiquette from your sister.”

“I’m the one who taught _her_.”  He barely refrained from calling Kurt a douche, but a quick glance at the two females in the room had him biting his tongue.

“You owe him lunch!”  Hannah whispered loudly.

“That’s right, I do,” Puck said.  “So you could come around eleven or so, we’ll have lunch, you and Hannah can play a bit.  Sound good?”

There was a pause before Kurt asked, “What should I bring?”

Puck wanted to tell him to just bring his ass and treat his sister well, but again, he had to censor himself.  “I don’t know - bring some nail polish or something if you want.  I guess.”

Kurt made one of his dramatic sighs, and Puck rolled his eyes.  “Fine.  I’ll see you tomorrow at eleven.  Here’s Finn.”

Puck paused a moment to let the females know that they were going to have a guest the next day and took the phone up to his room so he could hear over Hannah’s excited planning.

“Dude, did you have to hand the phone over to Hummel like that?”

“She asked,” Finn said, and Puck could tell that he just didn’t get it.

“Hummel’s coming to my house tomorrow.”

“You do owe him lunch, and this way you’ll get it over with.”

“He wouldn’t have pushed the lunch thing, and Hannah would have forgotten about it eventually.”

“When has Hannah forgotten about anything?”  Finn asked, and he was totally right.

“I guess he’s really coming to visit her and not me, so she’ll keep him occupied,” Puck mused, thinking that maybe he could get out of being there at all.  “I could probably ditch after lunch.  Wanna go shoot some hoops tomorrow afternoon?”

“Sounds good if you can get away,” Finn said, the humor in his voice telling Puck that he didn’t think it was going to happen.

“Oh, I’ll get away.  Just watch me,” he said firmly.


	3. Playdate

Chapter 3: Playdate

Kurt hadn’t been raised to visit someone’s house empty-handed, but he had no idea what to bring to Puck’s house. He figured he’d err on the side of overkill and bought a small vase of flowers for Puck’s mom, some of his more colorful nail polish to do Hannah’s nails, and a couple of Rockstar drinks he’d seen Puck downing from time to time. It wasn’t very healthy, but gifts were supposed to be about giving something the recipient wanted, not necessarily what was good for them.

So that’s how he found himself, standing nervously outside of the Puckerman house, arms filled with stuff. He juggled a bit and rang the bell, taking care not to spill the water in the vase.

He heard some thumping and stepped back, worried that some huge dog would tackle him and drool all over his McQueen jacket. It was dry clean only, and he’d just gotten it in the mail the week before.

Hannah pushed open the doors. “You’re here!” Once again, she threw her arms around his legs.

He was prepared this time and retained his balance without dropping anything in his hands. “Hello, Hannah,” he said on a laugh.

“He can’t walk with you draped over his legs like that,” a woman said, walking up to the door.

Puck’s mom smiled at him, and Kurt could see both children in this woman’s face. While she wasn’t gorgeous, she had a prettiness shared by her children, the large brown eyes, the generous smile, the dark hair. Kurt looked between the two females, realizing that they both had large, gorgeous curls. For the first time, he wondered what Puck’s hair would look like if he grew it out like normal people and got rid of the mohawk.

I’m Naomi, Noah and Hannah’s mom,” she said, holding out her hand.

Kurt paused a moment before gently shoving the vase in her hand. “I’m Kurt, and this is for you.” The pleased look she gave him made him automatically smile back, happy that he’d made the right decision.

“Puck - Noah - mentioned something about fingernail polish, so I brought some of my favorite colors. I thought maybe we could paint your nails after lunch if you wanted,” he said, staring down at Hannah.

“What colors did you bring?” She asked, excited.

“Let him in, and maybe he can show you,” Mrs. Puckerman said, humor in her voice.

Kurt’s first impression of the house was that while small, it seemed comfortable and lived-in. Hannah grabbed his free arm and pulled him to the sofa. “Show me?”

“Sure.” Kurt sat down, placing the Rockstars on the floor before unslinging the cosmetic bag from his shoulder. He placed it on the coffee table and unzipped one side, opening the flap to show Hannah her choices. “We can do whatever you want. Each finger can be different color, and we can do your toenails as well. I have little stickers we can put on the nails afterwards too if you want.”

“Ooh!” Hannah said, fingers hovering over the nail polish. She stopped and looked at him. “Can I touch them?”

Kurt couldn’t help but laugh. “Help yourself. Let’s just wait to open them until after lunch, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, sliding on the floor so she could get a better look at the bottles. A few seconds later, Kurt figured that she’d forgotten he was there, so he grabbed Puck’s drinks and headed toward the kitchen-type noises.

He walked in as Mrs. Puckerman pulled a pan out of the oven. “Do you need any help with anything?”

Gasping, she placed the pan on the stovetop and placed a mitt-covered hand over chest. “You scared me!”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said.

“It’s fine. My two sound like a herd of elephants; I’m just not used to someone graceful being in the house.”

“I was just wondering if I could help you with anything.” He saw her glance behind him and explained, “Hannah’s fallen in love with my nail polish collection. She’s trying to decide what colors she likes best. I have some fabulous shades in there, so she’s going to be occupied for a while.”

“You’re my guest,” Mrs. Puckerman said. “That means that you don’t raise a finger.” She gestured toward the kitchen table. “You can keep me company if you want, though. Would you like something to drink?” She looked down at the drinks in his hand.

“These are for Puck,” Kurt said, suddenly feeling a little awkward. He knew that most guys didn’t bring presents for other guys, but it hadn’t felt right to get something for Puck’s mom and sister and not bring something for him as well. “Where is he, by the way?”

Mrs. Puckerman rolled her eyes. “He’s off somewhere with Finn and Matt.”

“Oh.” Kurt didn’t know why he felt disappointed. Part of him had been hoping that Puck would be out so the whole playdate thing would be much more relaxed, and Kurt wouldn’t have to worry about doing or saying anything that Puck would make him pay for later. Evidently a smaller part of him, one he hadn’t even realized existed, had been looking forward to seeing him. That totally confused Kurt, so he just willed away the feeling. “Well, I’ll just leave them here, then.” He set them down on the corner of the counter and took a seat at the table. Taking a breath before putting on his charming man-about-town face, he said, “So, do you know what color do you want your nails painted after lunch?”

++++++++++ ++++++++++ +++++++++++

“Dude, he totally got by you!” Mike complained after Finn had easily dodged past Puck and executed a perfectly lame layup that still managed to put the ball in the hoop.

Disgusted, Puck wiped his face with the bottom of his t-shirt. He’d been playing shitty all morning, and he knew why. As much as he tried to focus on the game and hanging with his buds, his mind kept wandering back to his house, wondering how things were going with Kurt. Waking up this morning, he’d come up with the brilliant idea of just not being there when Kurt arrived. He’d called the guys, who of course had nothing going on, and they’d met at the basketball court at school. Usually by this time, Puck and Mike would have Finn and and Matt panting on the ground. Instead, they were two games behind.

Mike grabbed the ball and bounced it over. “What’s going on?”

“Puck’s avoiding his house because Hannah invited Kurt over for lunch,” Finn said, smiling as he tried to catch his breath.

“Wait - wasn’t that the lunch you owed him after he slammed you yesterday at the arcade?” Matt asked. “How’d you manage to get out of that?” He looked impressed.

“He left the house early this morning,” Finn answered.

“Dude, my mouth totally works,” Puck complained, although he wasn’t really upset. He was starting to feel a little guilty, both for sticking his mom and sister with Kurt and for leaving Kurt all alone with them, although, to be fair, Kurt was probably having more fun with them than he would’ve had out on the basketball court. “Maybe I should head back there, make sure everything’s okay.” He jogged over to the side of the court and grabbed his half-empty Rockstar and sweatshirt. “I’ll see you guys later.”

Already into a three-way game of horse, they acknowledged his departure with vague waves.

Five minutes later, key in the lock, he took a deep breath, braced himself, and opened the door to hear… singing? He recognized the voice; it was Hummel singing about washing a man right out of his hair. Puck couldn’t help his snort as he quietly closed the door and slipped into the kitchen. He’d finished his Rockstar before he’d even gotten into the truck, downed the water he’d left in the passenger seat, and was wishing he’d stopped by the quickie mart to stock up when he saw the two cans shoved in the corner of the counter. Frowning, he tried to remember buying them - there was no way his mom was going to pony up that kind of money for energy drinks she said he shouldn’t even be consuming - but gave up and grabbed one. Quietly popping the top, he walked over to the doorway and stood there in the kitchen, listening to Hummel sing.

Sure, he sounded like a woman, but his voice rang so clear; the lack of music only emphasized his sweet voice. Puck could see enough in the room to know that Kurt was doing some sort of dance as he sang, but Puck could only see Kurt’s back.

You can't light a fire when the woods are wet,  
No!  
You can't make a butterfly strong,  
Hmm, hmm!  
You can't fix an egg when it ain't quite good,  
And you can't fix a man when he's wrong!

You can't put back a petal when it falls from a flower,  
Or sweeten up a fellow when he starts turnin' sour  
Oh no! Oh no!

Kurt suddenly stopped singing, and Hannah started giggling, Kurt and Puck’s mom’s laughter joining hers after a few seconds.

“You’re gonna mess up my toenails!” Hannah complained.

“If I do, I’ll fix it,” Kurt promised.

Curious, Puck walked to the doorway, leaning against it as he watched Kurt posture and dance, every so often running to Hannah and tickling her.

With his barriers dropped, Kurt seemed almost younger, definitely lighter.

If his eyes get dull and fishy,  
When you look for glints and gleams,  
Waste no time,  
Make a switch,  
Drop him in the nearest ditch!  
Oho! Oho!

I went to wash that man right outa my hair,  
I went to wash that man right outa my hair,  
I went to wash that man right outa my hair,  
And sent him on his way.  
And send him on his waaay!

Kurt spun around with a flourish, stumbling when he caught a glimpse of Puck.

Puck remained where he was and smiled. “Hey.”

Suddenly, the light-hearted, youthful Kurt gathered up his armour and transformed into some sort of robot, smoothing this hair and offering a brittle smile, one with so much more distance and fake than the one he’d thrown to Puck’s family. “I thought you were out with your friends.”

“A guy can only play so much basketball,” he lied, taking a sip of his drink.

Kurt’s eyes followed his hand as he did it, and Puck wondered about the strange look on the guy’s face. “What?”

“Nothing!” Kurt said a little too quickly before turning back into the room.

“Are you hungry?” Puck’s mom seemed to appear from nowhere, but Puck was used to it.

“I could eat,” he said.

They were distracted when Kurt, large black bag slung over his shoulder, walked toward Puck’s mom. “Thank you for lunch, Naomi. It was wonderful.”

She smiled. “Thank you for the flowers - and the hand massage!” She wiggled her fingers at Kurt, pausing before giving him an impromptu hug.

From his point of view, Puck could see Kurt’s hesitation, then his eyes close briefly as he hugged Puck’s mom back. Puck seemed to remember that Kurt’s mom wasn’t around, but he didn’t know the story. He wondered how it must feel to have a mom-like woman hug you after so many years being without. Kurt’s momentarily lowering of his guard only served to make him that much more human than he’d been before. Damnit.

They pulled away, and Kurt readjusted the bag on his shoulder before giving Puck a nod and walking outside.

Puck pulled away from the wall and followed his mom into the kitchen. “So, what’d you make?”

“I made my spaghetti, but Kurt added a few things and definitely bumped it up a notch,” she said, making him a plate. “He also did this great thing with the bread.”

Puck looked around the room, trying to imagine Hummel working in it comfortably. It gave him a strange feeling, so he decided to just let it go and concentrate on his food, which turned out to be quite a bit better than he’d expected. “This is good.” He grabbed some bread and found that pretty awesome too.

His mom passed by him, and he snagged her hand. “What’s going on here?”

“Aren’t they nice?” Puck was surprised to find her nails coated with a nice clear polish that seemed to sparkle when she wiggled her fingers. “Kurt thought that I should go with this since I’m a nurse. He gave me a heavenly hand massage up to my elbows. I almost fell asleep on him!”

“What color did Hannah get?” He mumbled around his food.

“She went a bit bolder than I did,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You’re going to have to see them - and her toes. Speaking of Hannah, where is she?” His mom looked around, her gaze softening when she looked out of the front door. “Noah, come here.”

Plate and fork in hand, Puck stood beside his mother. Hummel and Hannah sat on the top stair of the porch, their backs facing Puck and his mom. Evidently, they were talking about something pretty serious, and Hannah laid her head on Hummel’s shoulder.

“That’s so sweet,” Puck’s mom said, her hand on her chest. “Oh! Do you have your phone? Take a picture. Hurry!” she added quietly.

Rolling his eyes - inwardly so his mom couldn’t see - he put down his food, fished his phone out of his sweats, and took a picture, showing it to his mom.

She sighed and turned away. “Make sure you send it to me, okay?”

“Sure,” Puck said, watching her put away the food and walk into the living room. He returned his gaze to the two on the porch and wondered what they were discussing. Part of him felt like he should be jealous, like Hummel and his sister were developing this relationship that excluded him. But looking at them sitting there, he knew that they both seemed to be getting something the other needed. Hummel was getting a sister, and, Puck supposed, so was Hannah. Snorting, he picked up his plate and returned to the table.

++++++++++ ++++++++++ +++++++++++

Kurt couldn’t describe how it felt when Hannah dropped her head onto his shoulder, and they watched the clouds slowly pass across the sky. It was unseasonably chilly, but it was manageable with them squished against each other, their coats on. She was only eight, yet he felt a connection with her that he’d never felt with any other kids, even when he was eight. He supposed she could be what people called an old soul; she definitely seemed to understand the loneliness he felt. Sure, Mercedes was his girl, but he didn’t think she quite understood how alone he felt. For some reason, Hannah did and shared it, which was strange, since he really didn’t think she was a lesbian or anything. Her only difference seemed to be her love of male-oriented sports, like football and - how did she even know about this? - rugby. She still liked doing girly things, like painting her nails and talking about the cute boy in class, but she just had other interests that drew her attention. Once she got older and learned how to dress and talk differently in school - and he knew she would, because who wouldn’t assimilate to make things easier in high school if they could? - then things would go easier for her, and she and Kurt would no longer have anything in common.

The thought made him a little sad, and he rested his head on top of hers for a moment.

“You’re always so sad,” she told him.

“Not always,” he corrected.

“Always when I see you.”

“I wasn’t sad when I was spending time with you today,” he told her.

“You were sad deep inside your eyes,” she said. “I could tell.”

What could he say to that? She was eight. He wasn’t going to tell her about how his life basically sucked all the time, about how he wanted someone to look at him the way his mom looked at his dad in pictures, about how nice it would be to have someone just want him and maybe love him a little, in a romantic way. He knew he was lucky to have such an awesome dad, but sometimes a person just needed to be held by someone who chose him, not someone who was given this child and kind of had to love him. 

“I’m fine,” he finally said. “I’ll be fine.” And he tried to believe it.


	4. The Big Winner

Chapter 4: The Big Winner

Two weeks later, a radio station Kurt listened to had been touting an international ballet company’s visit to Dayton, and while it wasn’t his thing, he found himself calling in on his way home from school when they offered up two free tickets. To his surprise, he won. Then he tried to decide who should get the second ticket.

Obviously, his dad wouldn’t be interested. Mercedes should have been next in line, and he did think of her for a second, but he realized that he really wanted to take Hannah. He hadn’t seen her since the lunch where he’d done her nails, and he found that he missed her company. He wondered how she was faring with those two bully-bitches in her class, whether she’d found someone else to play with. There’d been times he’d seen Puck and wanted to stop and ask about her, but he thought that it might be weird, not just that he and Puck would be talking but also that they’d be talking about his eight year-old sister.

Kurt wondered if Naomi would let Hannah go. He figured he could maybe buy her a ticket as well, and the three of them could go. He dismissed inviting Puck. The guy couldn’t even bring himself to eat lunch with Kurt; Kurt sure wasn’t about to invite him on what could be a nice evening out.

Before he realized it, he found himself turning down the road to the Puckerman house. He decided to let fate decide. If Puck’s truck sat in the driveway, then Kurt would just invite Mercedes. No Puck, and he’d go in and ask Naomi. As he drew close to the driveway, he saw what he needed to see. _No time like the present, I suppose,_ he said to himself and turned in to the yard.

The conversation went faster and easier than expected. Naomi waved away his offer to buy her a ticket and told him to take Hannah, saying, “I can already tell you drive safer than Noah, and he barrels her around in his truck all the time. Besides,” she eyeballed him, “I know that you’re a good boy.”

Kurt blushed a little at that, but it was nice to hear that she approved of him and trusted him with Hannah. They exchanged phone numbers, and he promised her that he’d text her with all of the pertinent information.

She asked if he wanted to stay until Hannah and Puck returned from running to the grocery store, but Kurt really wasn’t in the mood to deal with Puck. For once, he was feeling okay with the world and his place in it. He didn’t need someone bringing him down. That would happen soon enough as it was.

Instead, he drove to the garage and helped with a few oil changes until the placed slowed down for the day. Finn was out on a date, and Carole was working the graveyard shift, so they were on their own. While he waited for his dad, Kurt created a new Man Vs. Machine playlist on his iPod for his next shift until his dad was ready to lock up and go home. Kurt stopped on his way and grabbed some takeout Chinese, and his dad had everything ready by the time he got home, so they sat and watched the “Dirty Jobs” mini marathon on the Discovery Channel while they ate. His dad liked that they paid homage to the “little guy”. Kurt liked Mike Rowe’s deep, everything-will-be-okay-even-if-I’m-sticking-my-hand-in-something-nasty voice, and he loved loved _loved_ it when the man sang. He definitely could use some good moisterizer after some of the places he put his hands, but Kurt liked his rugged, charming face. He also had a sense of humor that Kurt envied and looked like he knew and was comfortable with his place in the world.

Kurt realized he was thinking way too hard and returned his attention to the show, catching up with his dad during the commercials. He made sure his father went to bed at a decent time, completed his nightly ritual, and was in bed by midnight, ready for his beauty sleep.

++++++++++ ++++++++++ +++++++++++

Two more weeks flew by, filled with calls and texts between Kurt and Naomi to discuss times and locations and phone calls between Hannah and Kurt to discuss the more important details, such as wardrobe, accessories, and whether she needed to repaint her nails before they left (she totally did).

Finally, on a cold Friday night, Kurt walked up to the Pukerman door and rang the doorbell. He heard the thumping that accompanied Hannah wherever she went, and she threw open the door.

“How do I look?”

She looked adorable. Her curly hair was tied back with a pink bow that matched the little pink satin pantsuit Kurt had quietly helped her mother find - and it had been tough. There were plenty of pink dresses and skirts, but it seemed that pink dress pants only seemed to be available for tiny children performing in beauty pageants. It really made no sense, but Kurt was long aware of fashion limitations, so he’d provided a few helpful websites for Mrs. Pukerman to peruse. Her pink high top sneakers just added the perfect finishing touch. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he told her sincerely.

“You look beautiful too,” she responded.

He struck a pose. “Thank you.” He’d decided to go dramatic, dressed all in black except for a white, collarless button-down shirt under his black textured vest. His jacket was fitted, the back reaching to just above his knees. The shirt made the outfit a little more casual, the jacket a little more formal. He had spiked the front of his hair just enough to add a bit of rakishness to his ensemble. He knew he looked fierce. He pulled out the hand he’d been hiding behind his back and presented her with dark rose corsage he’d had to order in advance from the flower shop. “For the lady.”  
Hannah’s mouth widened into a huge O as she stared at it for a second. Then she managed to collect herself and said, “Thank you,” in her formal telephone voice. “Please come in; I will be right back.”

Kurt moved into the house and closed the door behind him. He figured they’d be out of there soon, so he didn’t bother to sit down in the living room. He smiled when he heard Hannah yell, “Mom, Kurt gave this pretty flower to me, but what do I do with it?”

The door bumped him, and he moved out of the way to see Puck come in, threadbare t-shirt covering his wide shoulders ( _Wide?_ Kurt asked himself, why was he noticing Puck’s shoulders at all?).

“Hey, Hummel,” Puck said, shoving his keys into a front pocket so worn that Kurt could see his fingertips through the material. “You here to pick up Hannah?”

“Tonight’s the show,” Kurt confirmed.

Puck looked him up and down. “You look good - you know, in a totally non-gay way.”

Surprised but yet for some reason pleased, he smiled. “Thanks.” He looked at Puck, ready to try to give him some sort of compliment, but all he could say about the faded jeans and t-shirt was, “You look… dressed.”

Puck laughed soundlessly and walked away, shaking his head.

A compliment from Puck, Kurt mused. Who would have ever thought it? What a great way to start the evening.


	5. Protective Instinct

Chapter 5: Protective Instinct

Thanks to Rachel, they’d agreed to have glee club twice a week during the summer. She’d been angling for all five days, but she quieted down after Santana threatened to shave her head and hinted that fatal ‘accidents’ happened all the time in Lima. It had worked out pretty well; they met from nine to noonish at the school on Mondays and Thursdays, and those with summer jobs simply adjusted their work availability so they were only free for the late afternoons and evenings on those days. None of them were going to actual summer school, so that hadn’t even been an issue. The biggest conflict had been with Coach Sylvester, who wanted Kurt and the other cheerios every day, seven days a week. Puck wasn’t sure how he managed it, but Mr. Schue took Coach Sylvester into Principal Higgins’ office, and after a lot of yelling and mysterious thumping, according to Jewfro, they emerged with a plan.

Puck strolled in to the choir room on Monday morning to find all the girls excitedly hovering around Kurt. Sliding into a chair beside Finn, he asked, “What’s up?”

“Kurt met someone at that thing he took Hannah to in Dayton. Someone like a guy.”

“Hannah said something about that,” Puck said, thinking back. He only paused for a second to think again about how good Kurt had looked that night. He’d gone for dramatic, black and white, and he’d done some sort of shit with his hair that made it look like he’d just finished making out with someone and had forgotten to comb it. If he’d been interested, he’d have found it really kind of hot. Pushing his mind forward, he tried to remember what Hannah had told him about it on Sunday. He really hadn’t listened to her much. She just always seemed to keep talking, so eventually he ignored her in favor of watching ESPN. All he had to do was nod every so often, and it was all good. Now he tried to remember what she’d actually said. “I think she said something about meeting a guy who bought her a piece of chocolate cake during intermission.”

“Evidently, he called Kurt and asked him out.” Finn looked distinctly displeased.

Puck wasn’t feeling so happy about it either. “What else do we know about this guy?” Suddenly he wished he’d been paying more attention to Hannah.

Mike leaned between them. “What if he’s one of those people who pretends to like gay guys and then takes them out and hurts them or something?”

Puck snorted, but inside he realized that his thoughts had been running along the same lines.

Matt moved down and sat in front of them, turning around to join in the conversation. “I think he’s from Dayton, and that’s kind of a big city, right? They might have a lot more gay people there, so it’s probably not a big deal for him.”

“I don’t like it,” Mike said.

“Kurt was old enough to go there in the first place,” Artie suggested, wheeling closer. “Maybe we need to trust that he can make his own decisions about his personal life. I mean, I don’t see him giving us unsolicited advice about our love lives. Our shoes, yes. Our love lives, no.”

“He’s only sixteen,” Finn said, glaring at Artie. “And he’s never experienced… you know…” Finn started moving around anxiously in his chair.

“Gay love?” Puck added helpfully, grinning at Finn’s uncomfortable glare.

“Thank you all for your advice, but I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Kurt said loudly from behind the wall of girls.

“Why can’t he come down here?” Mercedes asked. “Then we could all meet him.”

“I’m not letting him within one hundred feet of any of you, thank you very much,” Kurt said.

“What does your dad say about all this?” Matt called out.

Kurt must have been sitting on springs, because he hopped out of his seat with the speed regular humans could only envy. He stood in front of the group and raised his hands. “I’m only going to say this once. No one-” he glared at Finn, narrowing his eyes. “No one is to say anything about this to my dad. Understand?”

“What’s the big secret, Kurt?” Mr. Schue asked, walking into the room.

“Surprise birthday party,” Kurt lied smoothly, settling back into his chair.

“That sounds like fun,” Mr. Schuester said distractedly. “Now, is anyone here acquainted with the stylish resonances of one Neil Sadaka?”

“Seriously?” Kurt complained loudly, and Puck didn’t bother fighting to keep the grin off his face.

++++++++++ ++++++++++ +++++++++++

The month was awesome. Kurt had himself a boyfriend, and for the first time, he didn’t feel like the outsider. He had someone who picked him out of a crowd, who chose him. Sure, the hour-long drive to Dayton seriously cut into their together time, but it was totally worth not having to sneak around Lima. Peter had no problems coming to Lima, but Peter was all Kurt’s, and Kurt wasn’t interested in sharing him with anyone, not his friends and especially not his dad.

After the first two weeks, Kurt’s dad realized that something was going on and sat him down for a talk.

“I’ve noticed that you’re starting to log a lot of mileage on the Navigator.”

“I’ve been visiting a friend up in Dayton,” Kurt said, his hands between his knees. Finn had been making protective, big-brother noises, and Kurt wondered if he’d said anything.

“And by friend you mean..”

“I mean friend.”

“So you’re not…”

“No. Not yet. No.” The whole conversation was so uncomfortable. At this point, Kurt and Peter had only seen each other four times and had only gotten as far as making out in Kurt’s car. They definitely hadn’t had any serious kind of discussion about where they stood, so Kurt didn’t feel that he was lying to his dad. He wanted Peter to be his boyfriend, but everything was still way too new.

“I want to meet him.” Burt Hummel looked uncomfortable but determined.

Kurt was determined too. “How about we wait on that? Right now, we’re just getting to know each other.”

“I want to meet the guy who’s making my son drive to Dayton every weekend to see him.”

“He’s not making me do anything,” Kurt said, suddenly standing. He felt too antsy to just sit there any more. “He’s offered to come here, but it’s easier for me to just go there.”

“You have over an hour each way,” his dad protested. “How is that easier?”

“What are you going to say when people walk up to you in the shop and tell you that they saw your son holding hands with a man in the movies?”

“I’ll say that it’s none of their business,” his dad said.

“And what are you going to say when they tell you that your son was seen making out with a guy in public?” Kurt sat back down across from his father and caught his eye. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but right now, I get to see a guy who wants to be with me! We go to the movies, we hold hands.”

“You kiss,” his dad said.

Blushing, Kurt said, “We kiss. Right now, I feel like a regular person, someone who gets excited about going on a date on Friday night without worrying about who’s going to see me, who’s going to call us up and scream obscenities about me. I just want to pretend to be a regular teenager for a little while longer, okay?”

Burt sighed, leaning back and running his hands over his face. “If you’re still seeing him in a month, then I expect to see his butt in this house for dinner - and you’re not allowed to get horizontal.”

Kurt couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. “Okay.” He jumped up from the chair and headed downstairs to get ready for his date.

“Kurt!” Kurt turned back to face his dad. “Promise me that you’ll be careful.”

“Promise!” As he flew down the stairs, Kurt realized that he was going to have to come up with some other excuse for his dad and Peter not to meet in a month, but he had plenty enough time to come up with something later. At the moment, he had to find something perfect to wear.

His conversation with Mercedes had been a little more difficult, but she’d wanted details his father would never have even approached. “Is he a good kisser?”

Kurt couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face even as he said, “A gentleman never tells.”

“Okay, so you’ve been making out. How far have you gone?”

He wasn’t about to get into that one. He wanted to go further, and he thought Peter did too, but he wasn’t quite sure how to get there. Peter had never invited him back to his place, and it wasn’t as though Kurt could ask him back to the house.

“I have to go. Coach Sylvester had us here at dawn, and she wants us back now that glee’s over.”

“Want me to grab you a sandwich?” Mercedes called out as he headed toward the gym.

“Please! And no mayo!” Kurt shouted back.

Thanks to the girls, Kurt was able to sneak away to Dayton without his father knowing. After an amazingly romantic dinner, Peter had taken Kurt to his new apartment - turned out, Peter had been embarrassed to show Kurt to his old home, which had been located in a bad part of town - and they’d finally had their night. It hadn’t been as… earth shattering as Kurt had expected, but they were safe, and he’d learned a lot, and he figured it would get better with time. After all, he had no experience with any of it. He couldn’t help but think that there should be something more, but…

One day he’d gotten out of the shop early and decided to surprise his boyfriend, waiting outside of his job and taking him to a nice, romantic place he’d found online. He’d pulled in just as Peter was pulling out, and he laughed to himself as he followed his boyfriend’s car, imagining the surprise he’d see on Peter’s face when he popped out.

Turned out, he was the one surprised.


	6. All For One

Chapter 6: All For One

“I know this is going to sound really…” Finn paused before continuing, “but I miss Kurt.”

“Gay,” Puck said. “It sounds really gay.” They sat on the hood of Puck’s truck, watching Hannah’s soccer team practice. It had turned out to be a beautiful day, and he didn’t mind just sitting out here, hanging out with Finn as Hannah and the other little girls ran around the field. Matt was some sort of assistant coach or something, but it seemed like his only job was to make sure this one little girl didn’t sit down on the field and start eating grass. She’d plop her plump butt on the ground every time he turned around, and by the time he’d gotten back to her, she’d have a mouth filled with dandelions.

“It’s just that he’s never around anymore,” Finn complained. “We’ve never been really close or anything, but I kind of like having a little brother. Kind of.”

Puck shrugged. “Being a big brother is kind of cool,” he admitted as Matt jogged up to them. “What’s he been doing? Between cheerios and glee, he doesn’t have much time, so what’s the deal?”

“He’s been doing all sorts of stuff with the girls. They go shopping, have spa days, do all that other stuff that girls do.”

“He’s been sneaking off to Dayton,” Matt said, catching his breath. He noticed the two staring at him. “We’re talking about Kurt, right?”

“Yeah,” Finn said slowly.

“The girls are just a cover so he can go meet his mysterious boyfriend up in Dayton. I guess his dad said that he’d have to meet the guy if they kept dating, so Kurt’s hiding him.”

“He didn’t tell me,” Finn muttered, obviously disappointed.

“From what I can tell, he thinks that maybe you told his dad about the boyfriend in the first place.”

“I wouldn’t do that!” Finn protested.

“Dude, I gotta call you on that shit,” Puck said. He’d spent a good ten minutes convincing Finn that telling Burt Hummel about his son dating a stranger wasn’t a good idea. He’d finally managed to sway Finn by pointing out that Kurt’s dad was smart enough to figure out that something was up when his son - who usually spent all his Friday nights coming up with dance routines - was actually leaving the house now. 

“Okay,” Finn conceded. “But the fact is, I didn’t do it!”

“So he’s still dating this guy? It’s been what? Like all summer?” Puck didn’t like it. “What does Aretha say?”

“She still doesn’t even know his name,” Matt said, groaning when he saw the girl on the ground, face filled with grass.

“Let her have some fun for a few minutes,” Puck suggested, returning to the conversation. “So Aretha’s okay with being in the dark?”

“She’s plenty pissed. She threatened to stop being his alibi, but he somehow talked her out of it.”

Puck didn’t like it, and a glance toward Finn showed that he wasn’t happy about it either.

“Maybe we should tell Mister -”

“Don’t even go there again,” Puck muttered. Not that Puck thought that keeping it from Mr. Hummel was a good idea. He didn’t like thinking of Kurt with some stranger, far away from the rest of them. However, dudes didn’t rat out other dudes to their dads when it came to girlfriends. It was, like, an unwritten rule. And as much as he really hated thinking about Kurt with someone - someone they didn’t know - he figured the rule still applied.

Matt pushed off from the truck and jogged over to the little girl, making her spit out her weeds and join the rest of her team.

“I think what we need is a glee club intervention,” Puck decided. “Kurt can’t con all of us at the same time.”

“Everyone’s so busy,” Finn said.

“Hannah has a piano recital next week. I’ll get her to invite everybody.” It seemed like Hannah’s meeting Hummel had started something, because Hannah now knew everyone in glee, having met them all at one point or another, worming her way into hanging out with them during their less debauched get togethers.

“What if someone says no?”

Puck jerked his head toward Hannah, who was racing toward them with red cheeks and a huge smile. “Who can say no to her without feeling like a shit?”

“Good point,” Finn agreed.

“And I’ll be there to tell them about the glintervention.”

“Seriously?” Finn asked, laughing. “That’s what we’re going to call it?”

“Of course,” Puck said, smiling back.

Figuring there was no point in waiting, Puck drove the three of them to Aretha’s house, Hannah still wearing her cleats and shin guards. He figured that he’d be golden once they enlisted Hummel’s best friend.

“What are you doing at my house, whi- Puck?” She asked, adjusting her comments when she saw Hannah.

“Hi, Mercedes! I wanted to invite you to my piano recital next Tuesday at seven o’clock.”

Looking confused as she leaned against the doorway, Aretha looked at Puck. “I appreciate the invitation…”

“She’ll be there,” Puck said. “Go get back in the truck, and I’ll be there in a second.”

“‘Kay,” Hannah said, grinning at Aretha. “See you on Tuesday, Mercedes!”

“What’s going on, white boy?” Mercedes asked quietly, smiling and waving at Hannah.

“We’re having a glintervention,” Puck said.

“A what?”

“A glee intervention. It’s come to m- Finn’s attention that Hummel’s still dating that guy in Dayton.”

Mercedes started to frown.

“Just hear me out. This is his first boyfriend, and what do we know about him? He’s even lying to his dad, and you know how close they are.”

“Puck-” Mercedes started.

“So I think - Finn thinks - that we need to find out what’s going on. This guy could be taking advantage of Hummel, and the kid doesn’t have enough experience to know it.”

“Puck!” Mercedes shouted.

“What!” Puck shouted right back.

She smiled. “You had me at intervention.”

“Oh.” Puck blinked. “So the plan is, we’re all going to Hannah’s recital, and afterwards, we’re going to head to the pancake house for some food and the glintervention.”

“Why the pancake house?”

Puck shrugged. “It’s one of the only places that can hold us all and will let us be as loud as we want. I figured that half of you wouldn’t want to break into the school to use a classroom, so…”

“The pancake house it is!” Mercedes laughed. “You want me to call the girls?”

“That would be great. We’ll take care of Artie, Matt, and Mike.”

Puck climbed behind the steering wheel feeling much better about the whole thing.

“She’s on board?” Finn asked.

“Yep,” Puck nodded. “She’s going to call all the girls. Can you text the guys?”

“Kurt too?”

“We’ll let Hannah invite Hummel, what with their being such good friends and all.” Puck slid a glance to Finn, trying to wordlessly convey that Kurt would never say no to Hannah, but Finn just looked back and him and blinked. Sighing, Puck started the truck. “Is he at home right now?”

Finn shrugged. “I have no idea anymore. He might be out with his, you know.”

“You mean his boyfriend?” Hannah asked, bouncing on the seat between the two teens. “I like Peter. He bought me the best chocolate cake ever.” She looked up at Puck. “He’s old.”

Puck was about to laugh, then he realized that right beside him sat the only person besides Kurt who had met the guy. “So, Hannah, what does Peter look like?”  
What followed was petty much all the intel Hannah seemed to remember, but he figured at least they knew a little more than they had earlier. He had shiny eyes (whatever the hell that meant), curly dark brown hair like hers but shorter, and a pretty smile (like that really helped, but whatever). She said he was taller than Kurt, and she mentioned again that he was old, but she’d called Puck old the other day, so her opinion wasn’t really going to be helpful there. The most important information they’d learned was his first name. Unfortunately, she didn’t know his last, so they couldn’t cyberstalk the guy before the glintervention, but it was a start.

Finn texted the guys, and they’d all agreed to come by the time they’d turned onto Finn’s block.

They drove up to the Hummel’s house and got out of the truck. Puck nodded in the direction of Kurt’s Navigator and said quietly, “He’s home.”

“Yeaaaa!” Hannah bounced and clapped her hands. “I get to see where Kurt lives!” She stopped and looked at Finn. “You live here too, right?”

Finn nodded.

“Then I can see your room too.” She smiled politely at him.

Laughing, Puck told his friend, “No claps for you, buddy.”

Finn laughed and unlocked the door, allowing Hannah to walk in first. Of course Puck just shoved an elbow in his stomach and followed his sister inside. He had to stop quickly in order not to run her down. “Hannah, you can’t just stop like that,” he told her.

“Is that Kurt’s daddy?” She whispered, looking into the room where Mr. Hummel sat, watching what looked like “The Biggest Catch”. 

Tempted to sit down beside him (that show was totally badass), Puck said, “Hey, Mr. Hummel.”

The older man turned and slowly stood when he saw Hannah. “Noah. Who is this young lady?”

“This is my sister, Hannah. Hannah, this is Mr. Hummel.”

Mr. Hummel walked toward her and held out his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Kurt’s told me a lot about you.”

“He has?” She whispered, slowly raising her hand to shake his.

While it was sweet to watch, Puck felt an ache when he thought that part of Hannah’s shyness probably had to do with the lack of a father in her own life. Puck knew it had really felt awkward to him when Finn had moved in, and suddenly there was this extra guy when he came to visit, someone who would tell them what to do and just expect them to do it. He felt more comfortable around Mr. Hummel now, and he’d rather have his tongue pulled out than admit it out loud, but he’d been pretty intimidated at first.

“He sure has. You must be a very special young lady.”

“Thank you,” she said so sweet and quaint that Burt chuckled. 

He turned to the open doorway leading downstairs and bellowed, “Kurt! You have visitors!” He looked back at them. “Go ahead and go down. I let him off work early today, and he went and did something with Mercedes. He just got in a few minutes ago.”

Puck shared a sure-he-was-with-Mercedes look with Finn and followed an eager, but nervous Hannah down the stairs.

“Wow,” she said, taking in the large television, the colors, all the flowy… gay things Kurt had all over the place. He recognized little pillows, but he was sure they had some fancy French name that he really didn’t care about learning.

Obviously, Kurt hadn’t heard his dad’s bellow. He came out of the bathroom, shirtless, smoothing some sort of shit over his face.

“Kurt!” Hannah ran over and grabbed him by the legs in what seemed to have become their usual greeting.

“Hi, Hannah,” Kurt said, obviously surprised. “To what do I owe this wonderfully surprising visit?” He’d emphasized “surprising” and turned a quick glare to Puck and Finn before smiling back down at Hannah.

“Your dad called down,” Finn said, his voice apologetic.

Puck was busy checking out Hummel’s torso. The guy was so pale he was practically glowing, but he was way more toned than Puck would have imagined. He even had some serious ab definition.

Kurt noticed his inspection and blushed, the red starting in his face and rapidly running down his body. Puck absently wondered how far down the blush went and quickly shook his head, wondering where the hell that had come from. He cleared his throat and said, “Hannah wanted to ask you something.”

Kurt did a little shimmy over to his bed, which was very impressive considering how tightly Hannah could squeeze, where he picked up a shirt. Putting it on, he started buttoning it while he looked down at Hannah.

“Will you come to my piano recital?”

“Of course I will,” Kurt said.

“But you don’t know when it is,” Puck said. “You might have plans with your girlfriends that night.”

Kurt was way more in tune with Puck’s innuendos than Finn had ever been, and he glared at Puck again, a look that Puck was becoming more accustomed to and was enjoying probably way too much. Puck looked a little closer, then, and saw a redness around Hummel’s eyes. He opened his mouth to ask why Hummel had been crying but then realized that it was a conversation better had without Hannah in the room.

And then he wondered why the hell he’d want to have that conversation anyway.

“All your glee friends are coming. Finn texted the boys, and Mercedes is calling all the girls!”

“And yet I got a personal visit. I feel so honored.” Kurt had dripping sarcasm down to a fine science.

Fortunately, Hannah was still young enough not to understand sarcasm. “Will you invite Peter? I haven’t seen him in a long time.”

“Peter’s busy.” Kurt said in a clipped tone, paying way more attention to his buttons that was necessary.

“But you still don’t know when-” Finn began.

“He’s. Busy.” Kurt said, the finality in his tone so strong that even Hannah picked up on it. Taking a small breath, Kurt bent down and asked Hannah, “Have you ever heard of this wonderful game called…” he paused dramatically, “Dance Dance Revolution?”

“No,” Hannah breathed, ready to be awed.

“Let me introduce you,” Kurt said, taking her by the hand and walking her over to the television. Flipping through his Xbox games, he said, “Boys, why don’t you go upstairs and do something… I don’t know, macho?”

“Macho?” Puck asked, grinning at Finn.

“You know, growl at each other, beat your chests…” Kurt waved an arm, dismissing them.

Hannah giggled.

“Fine,” Puck said. “But you only have half an hour. We have to get home in time for dinner.”

“Okay,” Hannah said, but Puck could tell she wasn’t paying him any attention.

He and Finn trudged upstairs and did some male bonding with Mr. Hummel, joining him in what turned out to be a “Biggest Catch” marathon. Every so often he could hear laughter from the basement, and if part of Puck wished he could’ve gone downstairs and joined them, well, he wasn’t going to admit it. All in all, it hadn’t been that bad a day.

The texts over the next few days flew fast and furious among the gleeks. Rachel had decided that they needed to come up with some sort of plan for when they confronted Kurt. Puck had thought it was bullshit until she reminded him how easily Kurt could change the subject or turn things around, and the next thing they knew, they’d either be at each other’s throats, or they would have forgotten why they’d really gathered in the first place. Puck couldn’t deny that she had a point, but he drew the line at helping her create what she called an action plan. She came up with a rough draft, e-mailing it to everyone, and even Santana offered some suggestions.

Puck refused to even open the damn thing. He was more a fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants kind of guy, and he figured that having all of the other members up on the plan was good enough. 

Plus, he enjoyed irritating Rachel.

The day of the recital found everyone but Hannah and Kurt nervous. Hannah was confident in her skills, and she was more than excited that she was going to get to hang out at the pancake house with her big brother and his friends - who were all coming to her recital. Kurt was oblivious to all of the planning going on; as far as he was concerned, he was going to a recital and then the pancake house to hang out with friends he hadn’t seen outside of glee practice practically all summer. Puck knew that it was partially Hummel’s fault; he would’ve had more free time if he hadn’t been sneaking up to visit his boyfriend all the damn time.

Kurt picked up Mercedes, Brittany, and Santana. Tina picked up Artie and Quinn. Mike picked up Matt and Rachel - although both Mike and Rachel had to be talked into that. Rachel had wanted to ride with Finn, who was helping at the Puckerman house, but the last thing Puck wanted in his car before Hannah played was Berry going on about a plan he’d managed to keep Hannah from knowing about in the first place. Besides, the bitch talked way too damn much. Then Rachel had suggested that they get Kurt to pick her up, but she started talking about ‘warming him up’ for the glintervention, and everyone forbade her from even talking to Kurt until they made it to the restaurant. Mercedes had taken care of convincing Mike to pick up Rachel, and Puck still wasn’t sure how she accomplished that miracle.

But they all made it to the recital, taking up an entire row and a half, hooting and hollering after Hannah’s flawless performance, making his sister blush and duck her head as she smiled. Kurt brought her a bunch of roses, and Puck could have kicked himself for not thinking of something like that. But then he thought that maybe it was a chick thing, and he was letting her hang out with the big kids at the pancake house, so he was reasonably sure that he was still up there in her favorites.

Friday night meant the pancake house was full, so Puck let Finn and Hannah out at the door so he could try to find a parking space. He found one not really a country mile from the restaurant, but it was a bit of a walk. As he opened his door, he noticed that Hannah’s flowers had fallen to the floor. Knowing he’d have to hear her whine about ruining them if she or Finn accidentally stepped on them while getting back in the car, he leaned over to put them in the seat when angry voices caught his attention.

_Great,_ he thought, some love connection gone wrong, and here he was, stuck in his truck.

“Damnit,” he muttered, hoping they’d either finish their fight or move it elsewhere so he could go in and get the glintervention started.


	7. And One For All

Chapter 7: And One For All

 

Kurt and his ladies made it to the pancake house first. The hostess took one look at them and immediately led them to the back, helping them push together a group of tables to make space for everyone. By the time they’d gotten that sorted, everyone had arrived except for Puck, Hannah, and Finn. Kurt wasn’t surprised. He was sure that Hannah had to have some face time with her mom and her teacher after the recital, so he’d figured they’d be a little later than everyone else.

He took a deep breath and plastered a smile on his face, pretty much the same smile he’d been wearing for the past week. He was tired. And sad. And lonely. He knew he should be used to it; after all, that’s how he’d felt pretty much his entire life. But he’d had a few months of feeling less alone, like part of something, and he found that returning to the status quo was almost unbearable.

It probably didn’t help that he wasn’t talking to anyone about breaking up with Peter. That first day, he almost called Mercedes, but then he thought of her questions, like why did they break up, and he felt too ashamed to say the words out loud. So he’d been keeping the whole thing to himself until he could figure out a way of telling them without explaining anything. He didn’t want to lie - Mercedes’ BS detector would catch him in a heartbeat, and he’d have even more to handle. Right now, he just wanted to curl into a ball for a couple of weeks until the brunt of the pain subsided, leaving him feeling as lonely as he’d been before he’d met Peter.

“Wasn’t she terrific, Kurt?” Mercedes gave his name extra emphasis, so he knew she must have been trying to get his attention for a while.

“Yes she was,” he agreed, mentally checking that his expression was still appropriate. Evidently, being a performer has its perks, since the conversation continued to flow.

“Are you okay?” Mercedes asked, her tone low.

“I’m fine,” Kurt lied, and of course, Mercedes obviously didn’t believe him. But she let it go, and Kurt knew he was going to have to tell her something before they parted for the evening.

His phone rang, Pat Benetar’s “Hit Me With Your Best Shot” ringing out loudly. Blushing, Kurt hit the ignore button and slid the phone back into his pocket. The phone sang again, and again, Kurt muted it. The third time, everyone at the table shouted for him to answer the damn phone.

He wanted to turn it off, but he knew he’d only get besieged with questions, so he answered it. “I have nothing to say.”

“Please, just talk to me for a few minutes. I want to explain.”

There was no way to explain away what Kurt knew to be true, no way to make it right. The entire drive home, he’d tried to rationalize it, to figure out a way that he’d been wrong, that he’d misunderstood, but internet research just confirmed what he’d already known. “I’m out with my friends.”

“I know. At the pancake house.”

Kurt took the phone away from his ear and stared at it a second before returning it to his ear. “Where are you?”

“Look out the window.”

Kurt had been sitting on the end of the table, and he looked out the window, seeing Peter, phone to his ear, standing in the parking lot. He wasn’t so close that Kurt could read his expression, but Kurt knew his shape, his form, and he knew it was Peter. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you talk to me. You’ve ignored all my texts and calls; I had to come see you.”

Sighing, Kurt hung up and stood. “I’ll be right back.”

“Everything okay?” Mercedes asked,

Kurt shrugged, for once at a loss of what to say. “I’ll be back, “ he repeated and headed for the door.

Walking quickly toward Peter, he furtively looked behind and realized that they’d all gone back to their conversations and weren’t paying any attention to him. “How did you know I’d be here?”

“Hannah mentioned on her Facebook page that she was having a recital, and then her older brother’s friends were taking her to the pancake house.”

For a moment, Kurt was distracted by the thought of being labeled a friend of Puck’s, but Peter continued talking.

“You know that I care about you, and I’m pretty sure you care about me too.”

Kurt wrapped his arms around himself, knowing it was showing a weakness, but he needed all the fortification he could get. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter!” Peter said, taking hold of Kurt by the shoulders. “We’re good together. You’ve touched my heart in a way no one else ever has.” He stared into Kurt’s eyes, slowly lowering his lips to Kurt’s.

“Not even your wife and kids?” Kurt asked, his lips mere inches from Peter’s.

Peter froze, pulling back. “We got married young. I didn’t really know who I was.”

“But you do now, right? And yet you’re still married to her.”

“We’re married in name only. We haven’t been intimate since long before I met you.”

“So it’s the we-stay-married-for-the-kids defense.”

Peter’s arm dug into Kurt’s shoulders as he said, “You have no idea of the hell I’m living in, and you’re the only thing that makes any of it bearable.”

Looking into Peter’s eyes, Kurt knew he could bring himself to believe it, could tell himself that Peter was living this lie, that his other life - the one with Kurt - was the real life. But then he thought about following Peter to his house, watching his two kids playing in the front yard, sitting in his car as Peter and his wife kissed and wrapped their arms around each others’ waists, and he knew that there had to be more, that he deserved better. His heart breaking a little bit, knowing what he was giving up, Kurt backed away from Peter’s grasp. “I can’t live that kind of lie.”

Anger flushed through Peter’s face. “I can’t believe you’re being such a child about this! I thought you were mature enough to handle it!”

“And that’s why you never mentioned your family to me?” Kurt wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t going to pretend to be just to keep a boyfriend. “That’s why you got that apartment and lied to me about living in a bad part of town?”

Peter paused, taking a deep breath, his eyes closed. He opened them, and all Kurt could see was an icy coldness. “No wonder you’re so lonely. I saw you at the opera, so pathetic that the only person you could invite with you was a little girl, and you practically leapt into my lap.”

Flushing, Kurt refused to look down, but inside he knew Peter was right.

“I’m going to leave here, and I’ll have another boy toy in a matter of days. You’re going to stay here, the only gay kid in a town filled with couples, and you’re going to be so lonely that your teeth will ache.” His eyes raked up and down Kurt, making Kurt want to shower immediately. “Look at you - you’re so skinny and pale that you look like a prepubescent girl. You were a waste of my time.”

“And yet you still drove all the way here to get me back.” Kurt hated the thready sound of his voice, but he raised his chin and gave Peter his biggest glare.

“Because you were easy. And dumb.”

Feigning boredom but really just wanting to run away and hide from the accusations shoved in his face, Kurt said, “I think it’s time you leave now, before I call the cops and have you arrested for statutory rape.”

“I had no idea - “

“Please,” Kurt said, his voice filled with sarcasm. “You had no idea that someone who looks like a prepubescent girl was underage? Let’s see how long the cops keep a straight face with that one. Forget my name, forget my number.”

Peter gave him a thin, toothless smile. “Consider it already done.”

Kurt managed to keep up his haughty demeanor until Peter had gotten into his car and driven far enough away for Kurt to be certain he was alone, and his shoulders dropped. Squeezing his eyes shut so he wouldn’t cry - the bastard didn’t deserve a single one of his tears - Kurt tried to get hold of himself. He had to go back into that pancake house and pretend that everything was okay, and he really wasn’t sure how he was going to be able to do that. He’d just leave and text that he fell ill if they weren’t celebrating Hannah’s performance.

Pressing his palms against his eyes, he felt a few tears sliding out, but he was determined to keep control. He just needed a few minutes.

++++++++++ ++++++++++ +++++++++++

Later on, Puck would learn that a little after Kurt’s departure and Finn and Hannah’s arrival, Artie looked around and asked, “Where’s Puck?”

“Forget Puck,” Santana said. “Where did Hummel go?”

Hannah happened to look out the window and spotted Peter, and everyone had jumped up to finally get a look at Kurt’s boyfriend - and they’d all been stunned to see a guy who had to have been in his forties.

“He’s old!” Tina said.

“Maybe that’s not really Kurt’s boyfriend,” Artie said. “Maybe he’s a friend of Kurt’s dad.”

“Maybe he’s Kurt’s boyfriend’s dad,” Mike added.

“Maybe Kurt’s boyfriend is invisible to everyone but him, like that scary rabbit,” Brittany offered.

After a moment, they all returned to looking at the window. They watched the man grab Kurt’s shoulders and lean down for a kiss.

“He’s gonna kiss him!” Rachel gasped.

Then he stopped, and they could tell that things weren’t going well.

“Do you think they’re breaking up?” Artie asked.

“I think they’re already broken up,” Mercedes said, and everyone turned to her. “Something hasn’t been right with my boy for about a week. I wasn’t really sure what it was at first, but now that I look back - “ she turned to Quinn. “Has he asked you to be his backup for his dad so he could go see his boyfriend?”

“Not lately,” Quinn said.

“Me either.” Mercedes said thoughtfully. “I think he’s here to get Kurt back, and I don’t think it’s gonna happen.”

“He’s kind of cute…” Tina said.

“If you like old people,” Santana said, obviously unimpressed.

“He’s not that old,” Matt said. “I mean, my dad’s probably about his age, and he’s still pretty spry.” He paused, thinking. “Well, as long as he gets his naps.”

During that time, though, Puck was still in the truck. He’d recognized Kurt’s distinctive voice the minute he paid attention, and he heard the whole conversation. Part of him wanted to fly out of the truck and just pummel the guy for being such a dick, but Kurt was taking care of himself just fine. The minute the guy got physical, though, Puck was totally there.

He heard about the wife and kids and wondered how the guy had managed to keep that secret for as long as he did until he heard about the apartment. Kurt wasn’t stupid, but he didn’t have any experience with cheaters, and he hadn’t stood a chance with such a liar, one who obviously paid attention to him and cared about him, something Kurt had never experienced.

Puck knew that Kurt must be lonely, but he hadn’t really thought about it until he listened to the conversation. For the first time, he put himself in Kurt’s shoes, living in a town where he knew there would be no hope of finding someone to be with. He thought back to all of the songs they sang for each other, the way they all hooked up with each other, the way Kurt was never in the running, and he felt an unfamiliar, uncomfortable ache that he wanted to just go away. He realized that this is what Kurt must feel like all the time, and he felt a little awed by the strength it must take to just keep going every day.

He waited a few seconds after the conversation ended and peeked over the dash to find Kurt standing, head down and shoulders slumped, palms pressed against his eyes. He’d never looked so alone, standing against the bright, cheery lights of the pancake house.

Puck’s first instinct was to walk over and just give him a hug - a bro hug, not some girly hug, but he knew Hummel enough to know that his presence wouldn’t be welcome. Hummel would do that thing where he’d be all sarcastic and shit, and Puck would get pissed off and say something rude, and instead of helping, he would have made everything worse. So he waited until Hummel got himself together and started walking back to the restaurant before hopping out of his truck.

“Hummel! Hold up!” Puck saw Hummel’s automatic pause, but he could tell by the way he didn’t turn around that Hummel wished he’d pretended he hadn’t heard his name. Puck grinned to himself, thinking what a pain in the ass being polite could be. He did a little jog to catch up. “I’d have thought you were the first one here.”

Hummel’s eyes narrowed as they followed Puck’s route. “Where’d you come from?”

Puck could already see Hummel’s mind trying to figure out if Puck had seen or heard anything. He just rolled his eyes and said, “My truck.” He let the “of course” go without saying and allowed Hummel to stare intently at him for a few seconds before asking, “Were you just planning on standing here, or did you want to go inside with everyone else?”

Hummel shrugged, a small, sad movement. Puck probably wouldn’t have noticed anything different, because he didn’t really pay attention to stuff like that, but after what he’d heard, he seemed to be in tune with every movement Hummel made. It totally sucked.

Puck caught the door, watching as Hummel took a breath, squared his shoulders, and walked into the place like royalty. The change was immediate and almost undetectable, and Puck wondered how many times Hummel had done that in his life.

Everyone descended upon them before they got halfway to the tables.

“Who was that guy you were talking to?”

“Is that your boyfriend?”

“How come Peter didn’t come inside?”

“Didn’t he want to meet us?”

“How old is he anyway?”

“Did he go to school with your dad?”

“Does he have a rabbit suit?”

The last question, from Brittany, stopped the onslaught long enough for Puck and Hummel to reach the table. Hummel slid in until he was against the window, and Puck took the seat across the table from him. He could tell by the soda sitting there that it belonged to someone else, but he eyeballed the group, silently daring one of them to say anything about it. After a few seconds, he realized that Finn’s red ears told the story, but he took the seat beside Puck, and the others did what they needed to do to adjust.

The rest of the evening was loud and boisterous, with multiple conversations and people switching seats. Hummel was a little quieter, his smile thin, but he made an effort. It seemed like everyone knew that something had happened, so they let him get away with listening more than participating and decided, through lots of eye rolls and hand gestures and, in Brittany’s case, Santana muttering, “We’re not doing it anymore, Brit!”, to put the glintervention on hold until they knew more about the situation. After all her research, Rachel really didn’t want to postpone, but she got glared down by the rest of the group and eventually shoved her piles of paper back into her bag. Puck wasn’t about to tell anyone what he knew, so he was the only one who knew for sure that it had been canceled instead of postponed.

Puck remained in his chair, pretending that anyone worthy enough to carry on a conversation with him could move to where he was. That earned him the title of “His Highness” for the night, one that he quite enjoyed and was thinking of requiring in all future conversations. He joked and laughed with the others, but part of him remained in tune with Hummel, paying attention to the fact that he barely took a bite of his pathetic looking salad, watching every shrug, hearing every sigh.

They’d gotten the check and were fighting over how much each person had to ante up when Hummel’s phone rang. Puck pretended to count the money his mom had handed him for his and Hannah’s meals while he watched Hummel pause before reading the number. He let go of his breath on a silent sigh and answered, “Hi, dad.” Another pause as he listened. “We’re paying now.” He rolled his eyes, smiling slightly, and Puck found himself, not for the first time, envying Kurt’s relationship with his dad. “Just because I don’t doesn’t mean that they don’t.” Another sigh, this one loud and dramatic. “Fine. I’ll ask.” He lowered the phone. “Dad and Carole wanted me to invite everyone over to the house for dessert, but I’m sure you all have things to do?” Hummel’s voice raised at the end, turning the invitation into a question, and Puck could tell that he really didn’t want anyone to come. 

Puck figured he wanted to go home and crawl into a ball and cry and shit, and that really wasn’t going to make anything better, was it? So he was the first to throw out a response. “Sounds great!” He grinned at Hannah, deciding to make it impossible for Hummel to change his mind. “Doesn’t it, Hannah?”

“Will there be chocolate?” She asked.

“Kurt’s dad loves chocolate,” Finn told her.

Puck watched Hummel gather himself as the others nodded enthusiastically and he put the phone back up to his ear. “We’ll see you soon then. Love you too.” Kurt hung up the phone and gave everyone the lamest smile Puck had ever seen.

It didn’t matter who was riding together, since they were all headed to the same place, and everyone kind of got mixed up - except for Rachel, who was angling to ride with Hummel, something Puck knew would just end badly. So he bit the bullet, grabbed Finn, and dangled his friend like a piece of cheese in front of a mouse in order to get Rachel to ride with them.

Twenty minutes later, they all pulled up to the Hummel driveway. They all had a CD that Artie had burned for them and had started it in each of the vehicles at the same time. So they turned into Hummel’s street, the same Kanye song blaring from four different vehicles. Because his truck was longer than the cars, Puck pulled it in front of the house and let the others park in the driveway.

He’d barely gotten the truck into park before he watched Hannah hop out of Hummel’s car, run around the front to the driver’s side, and take Hummel’s hand. Puck just sat there for a second, watching Hummel smile at something she said, and he felt a sense of pride at how his sister, without knowing any particulars, knew that Hummel needed extra care. He wondered about their inexplicable bond, but he didn’t pause to think on it too hard. Maybe she could make Hummel feel better for a little while, he thought, grabbing his keys and following the others inside the house.

++++++++++ ++++++++++ +++++++++++

The one thing that had kept Kurt smiling and nodding all night was the thought that once it was over and he’d dropped off the ladies, he could go home, curl up in bed, and just sleep. The thought of oblivion, not feeling so alone for just a little while, had helped him to eat a few bites of his wilted salad and interact as much as he could. He’d caught little looks between the other gleeks, and he figured it was about him. He’d surreptitiously checked out the window after he‘d reclaimed his seat and realized that he hadn’t pulled Peter far enough away from its view. All they’d had to do was look up, and they would have seen their argument. They would have seen Peter. He’d braced himself, waiting for the comments and more questions, but no one said anything, and he thought that maybe luck was with him this time, and they’d let it go. He’d been startled when Puck had called out to him in the parking lot, and he’d thought that maybe Puck had heard something, but the jock hadn’t intimated by word or gesture that he’d heard any of the conversation. That was two rather large bits of luck that Kurt had stumbled upon, as though fate had thought his calling off his relationship with a married man with kids had earned him something.

Then fate decided that he was getting a little too comfortable and had his dad invite everyone back to his house for dessert.

After fighting about the bill for about five minutes, Santana grabbed the check, pointed at people, and told them how much they had to pay. Somehow it ended up with the guys paying the brunt of it, with a teensy amount supplied by the girls - all except Santana and Brittany, who’d really eaten more than anyone else at the table. But Santana was scary, especially with that particular look on her face, so they all anted up.

They’d managed to make it out of the restaurant - although they all ended up in different cars this time. He still had Artie’s CD in his car, and through more complications involving phones and countdowns than he really felt was necessary, they all played “Gold Digger” in unison, Kanye and Jamie Foxx belting out of each of the four cars. Rocking to the music, listening to Hannah, who was sitting in his backseat with Mike, laughing when he pop and locked, he managed to completely push everything else and just be in the moment and enjoy himself.

Unfortunately, the song couldn’t last forever, and Lima just wasn’t big enough for the fun to last long, but Kurt tried to grab as much as he could to remember for later, after everyone had gone home, when he was alone in his room.

Kurt was the first to pull in, Hannah jumping out as soon as he’d killed the engine and running around the car to grab his hand. She kept up a steady monologue that seemed to consist of trying to guess the dessert waiting behind the front door.

Kurt felt himself smile slightly, thinking back to the conversation he’d had earlier in the day with Carole. She’d asked him to tell her about the concert - and at first, he was worried that she’d learned something about Peter - but he quickly realized her interest was in Hannah. He’d somehow never really thought about the fact that since Puck and Finn had been friends for years that Finn’s mom would know a lot about Puck’s sister. Carole had asked about what Hannah ate, in particular what sweets she liked. Kurt had remembered how Hannah’s eyes had grown huge at the chocolate mousse cake, and she’d pretty much licked the plate clean after she’d demolished the large piece. He remained silent as they walked up to the house, which wasn’t difficult since Hannah hadn’t managed to stop talking long enough to take a breath.

Unlocking the door, he pushed it open and held the screen door for everyone. Of course, Puck took his sweet time climbing out of his truck, and Kurt figured it was a sign that his father had raised him right when he just inwardly sighed and waited until Puck was good and ready to enter the house.

As he ambled by, Puck stopped and looked Kurt in the eye. It seemed unnaturally intense, and Kurt found himself blushing, which he absolutely hated. Lifting his chin, he asked, “What?”

Puck opened his mouth like he was going to say something important, but he shook his head and said, “Nothing,” stepping into the house.

The cake sat on the dining room table, Hannah in front of it with wide eyes. 

“Kurt! It’s chocolate mousse cake! It looks just like the one I had that night. Remember?”

“It’s probably even going to be better than that one,” Kurt said.

“Why?”

He was about to say that it was because it was made with love, then remembered where he was. He wasn’t in the mood to be mocked - not today - so he changed his answer, happy that his mind could regroup so fast. “Because it’s homemade,” he answered.

“I forgot the knife!” Carole groaned.

“I’ll get it.” Kurt knew he was probably the last one who’d put it away. He slid behind Matt and Mike and pushed open the kitchen door. He grabbed the knife and was about to turn around when he caught a glimpse of himself in one of the kitchen windows.

He couldn’t believe he’d been out in public looking like he was. His hair had fallen out of its pristine order, his face paler than usual. But it was his eyes that did him in - the sad, pathetic look to them. How could anyone look and him and not realize just how unhappy he was? Here he was, thinking that he was fooling everyone, when they were probably all out there whispering about “poor Kurt, can’t keep a boyfriend”.

And that’s when he felt something inside break, just a little. He thought about tomorrow, and the next day and the next. He thought about every lonely day he was going to have until he finally escaped Lima.

Whenever he felt like this, he’d close his eyes and picture his future, in New York, maybe LA. He’d see himself happy, fulfilled, with friends like him, with a boyfriend.

But tonight he just didn’t have the energy. He stood there, looking at himself, and he couldn’t see past the lonely night he had ahead of him.

“Get a move on, Hummel!”

Startled, Kurt spun around to find Puck standing in the doorway.

“Dude, what’d you do?”

Confused, Kurt followed Puck’s eyes and realized that he was still holding the knife. One hand held the handle, but the other one had tightly gripped the blade and was now dripping blood on the floor. “I… didn’t…” He looked back at Puck, still not sure of what had happened.

“Hummel. Kurt, give me the knife.”

Puck was speaking to him gently, the way he spoke to Hannah. Kurt knew he should be upset about that, but he found it a little soothing. He opened his mouth to explain that it had been an accident, but then he looked down at the knife and realized that he hadn’t felt the blade digging into his skin. In fact, he didn’t feel anything at all. He felt tears well in his eyes, and he didn’t want Puck to see him like this. Turning around, he walked to the sink. “It was an accident.” He hated that he had to clear his voice to get the words out.

Dropping the knife into the sink, he opened a drawer with his good hand and pulled out another one. He held it out, handle first, to Puck. “I’ll be out in a minute.” Puck reached for it, but Kurt pulled it back. “Don’t tell anyone about this. Please.”

++++++++++ ++++++++++ +++++++++++

When he’d offered to go get Hummel, Puck thought he might catch the kid crying or something, but he never expected to see Hummel standing by the window, both hands wrapped around a serious looking knife.

He knew he’d startled Hummel the way he’d whipped around to face him, but suddenly he got scared. What if Hummel had finally had enough and wanted to kill himself?

But then he realized that the cut, deep as it might be, wasn’t a slash to the wrists and wouldn’t kill him, and if he knew that, then he was sure Hummel knew it too. His fear eased slightly, but he was still really worried. Hummel wasn’t showing signs of pain, and he seemed to be just as surprised that he’d cut himself as Puck. How did a person hurt himself deep enough to bleed as much as he was and not notice it? That was fucked up. Hummel was fucked up.

Hummel handing him the new, clean knife and asking him not to tell anyone what he’d seen wasn’t surprising, but the way he’d said please, the fear and worry and tears in his voice just tore into Puck.

“How many guys does it take to find a knife?” Mercedes complained, opening the door.

“Here,” Puck grabbed the clean knife from Hummel, handed it safely to Mercedes. He grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her around. “Save us a couple of pieces, okay? I like the corners.” She turned her head back towards Kurt, and Puck pushed her gently toward the other room. “Get to it, ‘Retha,” he said, smacking her on the ass.

“White boy,” Mercedes said warningly, laughter in her voice as she disappeared behind the door.

Puck turned back to Kurt, who had returned to the sink and was running water over his bleeding hand. Rather than trying to stop the blood from flowing, though, he was watching it mix with the water and run down the drain, almost like he was in a trance.

“Seriously, dude,” Puck chastised, his voice unusually gentle. “You have a first aid kit in here?”

“Under the sink,” Kurt said quietly.

Nudging Kurt out of the way, Puck rooted around until he found the white box with the big red cross on the front. He placed it on the counter and dug until he found what he needed and returned to Hummel’s side. “Give me your hand.” He dabbed gauze over Hummel’s palm to dry the area before spraying it with some bactine. Kurt hissed a little, pulling on his hand, but Puck was prepared and simply tightened his grip a bit.

“That stung,” Kurt said, almost surprised.

“No shit,” Puck muttered, raising Kurt’s hand close to his mouth so he could blow on it. Something made him look up midblow, and the intent look of fascination on Kurt’s face froze him for a moment.

Kurt’s eyes raised to connect with his, and Puck realized that the emotion was all there, like a wave hovering in the air just before it descended. He waited and watched Kurt’s eyes well up with tears. He closed them a moment, obviously trying contain himself. When he opened them, he looked behind Puck. “I’m just so tired of being alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Puck said, tilting his head toward the living room filled with people.

Kurt’s eyes returned to Puck’s. “I have people who care about me; I know I’m lucky. But I’m still alone. It was bad enough before… before I knew what it was like to be part of… something.” He said the last word almost on a whisper. Swallowing, he said, “I am always alone.”

And Puck knew what he meant, and what could he say to that? It was true. He knew that he could spout out all that crap, the stuff about how once he graduated, Kurt was going to be able to go wherever he wanted and do whatever he wanted, that he’d end up successful with some hunky boyfriend, but Hummel knew all that. And it definitely didn’t make him any less alone on this particular night at this particular place. And they both knew that the odds of his finding someone else to date - especially in Lima - were pretty nonexistent.

Without a second thought, Puck wrapped his arms around Kurt and touched their foreheads together, letting Kurt take whatever comfort he needed. After all, it’s what Hannah would do for a friend.

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> Anyone who has ever posted a story knows how much comments mean to a writer. I want to thank everyone who took the the time to drop me a little line. I looked forward to reading each one.
> 
> No matter when you read this story - two days from now, two years from now, I'd love for you to take a moment and send me a comment [or seven :-)]. I'll do my best to respond promptly, and constructive criticism is always welcome.
> 
> I might be writing a sequel; it's brewing right now, so we'll see how it develops.


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